


Just another plan backfired... or has it?

by Resa_Saso



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Fluff, Hurt & Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-23 18:05:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18707188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Resa_Saso/pseuds/Resa_Saso
Summary: The Master got poisoned by an alien race he had tried to use against Earth yet again, and the Doctor needs to take care of him. Yes, it's the usual "My significant other is sick and I have to bring him back to health" concept, no, I don't regret a thing.





	Just another plan backfired... or has it?

**Author's Note:**

> So, I should probably add that this is based on a request from someone I lost contact with, so if you should through a miracle read this - Sorry it took me a year to write it, but here's your fluffy Three/Delgado hurt & comfort. :'D

The Doctor had a bad feeling.  
Frankly, the Doctor had had a bad feeling since the whole ordeal had started, which usually implied that something far more terrifying was at work than what he usually had to deal with – Which usually implied the Master was behind it all.  
But the bad feeling that had befallen him now was another bad feeling, something that had his stomach in painful knots, slowly wandering up to his chest, to sit there like a heavy load over both his hearts.

Something was wrong.

And so, when the Brigadier’s men walked in alongside him, all with raised guns and ready to fire, as was their usual way, he hurried to rush past them, almost running the last few steps and soon found the reason for his uneasiness in a little control room. While the Brigadier and his troop went down the fabric halls right past him, he waved Jo and Mike Yates over to him and shut the door behind them.

“Oh!” Jo clamped her hands to her mouth in shock. “What happened to him?”

The Master lay before them on the ground, his face pale and sweaty, his eyes closed into something that looked like desperate exhaustion. The Doctor could tell from his irregular breathing, that he was still conscious, but only just.

“He must be in pain,” Mike Yates contributed unnecessarily.

With a worried frown, the Doctor leaned down to his old enemy.

“It’s alright,” he tried to reassure him in a soft tone. “It’s alright, I’m here now.”

The Master let hear a small groan, which made the Doctor’s frown deepen. Unbelievable, here he was trying to give an old enemy some comfort and even in a time like this, he went out of his way to be _displeased_.

“You can forget your rubbish plan anyway,” he snapped at him. “It’s already failed. I’ll get you back to health and then you can form another one, yes?”

Mike Yates coughed subtly.

The Doctor managed to hold back a little curse. “Of course, what I really meant is, we’ll get you back to health and then lock you up, like you deserve it.”

The Master seemed to snort in amusement, then regretted it instantly, distorting his face into a painful grimace with a little wince.

“Is he hurt?” Jo asked with a thin voice. “Shouldn’t we bandage his wounds or something?”

“There are no wounds,” the Doctor mumbled thoughtfully. “No, I think he got infected by the Eklic’s poison.”

Jo’s eyes widened. “But all these other people who got infected, they… they all died.”

The Doctor smiled when he saw how worried his young friend was and shook his head gently.

“Well, they weren’t Time Lords,” he explained calmly. “We’re better equipped for this kind of poison. You’ll see, he will be fine and up to his usual shenanigans in no time.”

Mike Yates let hear another gentle cough.

“Yes, well, that was if we didn’t lock him up, of course,” the Doctor added with a sheepish smile. “Come on, Captain, make yourself useful and help me get him up, he needs medical attention as soon as possible.”

“But shouldn’t we tell the Brig…” Yates began while the Doctor already gripped the Master under his arms to lift him up. He interrupted the captain with the roll of his eyes.

“Now, the Brigadier doesn’t need to know everything, does he? Human doctors can’t help him anyway. No, no, I think my TARDIS will be just fine. Let’s bring him there, shall we.”

Mike Yates still looked like he wanted to protest, but Jo nudged him gently in the side. “Come on,” she said softly. “He needs help.”

With a sigh, the young man finally stepped to the Master’s feet and helped lifting him up in the air. “This is your responsibility,” he grumbled. “If the Brigadier finds out, I’m a dead man.”

The Doctor grinned. “You’ll find he’s absolutely my responsibility.”

And Jo refrained carefully from telling him that sometimes, he really gave away more than he realized.

 

 

They had carried the Master into the Doctor’s TARDIS. Mike Yates had looked around with wide eyes, while the Time Lord led them into one of the spare bedrooms.

“It’s… it’s…” he mumbled, and the Doctor gave him a wink, smirking as he watched the Captain flee out of the ship with hesitant backwards steps.

“Well, that’s sorted then,” he grinned, while leaning down to the Master. Jo stayed silent with a little raise of her eyebrows, but the Doctor didn’t even seem to remember she was still here.

“Now, old chap, you drink this and try to get some rest,” he mumbled softly, bringing a bottle with a brown mixture to the Master’s lip.

Jo frowned.

“What is this?”

“Disgusting,” the Master coughed, which made both of them smirk.

“Well, it’ll help you to get back on your feet, so you’re really not in a position to complain.” He turned to Jo. “I’m going to be busy here for a while, could you be a dear and keep the Brigadier distracted?”

She sighed. “I’ll try my best. Be careful, Doctor,” she said, throwing a glance to the Master that showed nothing but suspicion.

The Master seemed to try and laugh, but the sound turned into a painfilled moan and the movement quickly died again.

“Easy,” the Doctor sighed.

When Jo had left the room with a worried glance, about which the Doctor wasn’t sure who it was intended for, the Master muttered, “This mixture doesn’t have to be disgusting and we both know it.”

“No, it really doesn’t,” the Doctor agreed with a smirk. “But you know how it is. The more I watch you struggle, the greater the ultimate satisfaction.”

They stared at each other wordlessly for a few seconds.

“That was on your mind, huh?”

“Absolutely not. I couldn’t be less interested.”

“Laid on your chest heavily? Are you glad you got it off?”

“Very funny.”

“I can see you’re feeling better already.”

“And so are you, apparently,” the Doctor suggested. “Don’t need me to look after you anymore, do you? Should I send in the Brigadier then, get you ready to be arrested?”

The Master’s light grin died on his face instantly and for a second, the Doctor felt sad to watch it go. He hadn’t even noticed how playfully they were teasing each other, until he had destroyed the moment.

“I’m only kidding,” he assured his old friend and enemy quickly. “I won’t-”

“It’s not that,” the Master interrupted him quickly. “I don’t feel well…”

And with a startled little gasp, the sick Time Lord’s eyes fluttered shut.

“Oh well,” the Doctor sighed, feeling the Master’s forehead with a worried little frown.

He was running a fever.

Of course, he was running a fever.

Hand it to the Master, to absolutely run into every complication there was, full speed.

He rushed towards the sink, preparing a towel with ice cold water and laid it on the sick Time Lord’s forehead.

“Don’t really know what to do with you,” he sighed, sitting down on the side of the bed, watching the Master with cautious eyes. Time and again, he raised a hand, carefully checking the other’s pulse and temperature.

He had always known the Master as a fighter, especially when it came to his own survival, but that didn’t stop the worried frown appearing on his face and staying there, hour for hour that he spent at his old enemy’s bedside.

He watched him thrash around in the covers, a slight film of sweat building on his brow. Every now and then, the Doctor wiped it away and refreshed the towel with ice cold water. Fear was clinging to his hearts each hour the Master didn’t wake up, but he didn’t let it take him over and instead concentrated on sending him positive thoughts – Quite literally. It seemed to ease the thrashing a little, at least the Doctor decided to read the lack of movement as a good sign.

Anything else let a surge of panic rise inside of him that he could just not use right now.

 

For a Time Lord, it was ridiculously easy to lose track of time. When Jo knocked on his TARDIS door a day later, he had neither slept nor any idea that the night had long passed.

“How is he doing?” she whispered, fresh bottles of water in her arms, along with a tray full of breakfast for them.

The Doctor shrugged, unable to put his fear for his old friend aside and give Jo the amount of optimism he wanted to give.

She read his expression exactly right, sitting down beside him, a hand resting on his shoulder in comfort.

“Have you slept at all last night?”

The Doctor shrugged again, and only now realized how heavy his eyelids felt.

“Now, this is enough. He’s survived worse than this. You go and lie down; I’ll wait here for a bit and watch over him. If anything changes at all, I promise I’ll wake you, but you need some rest.”

It spoke for how exhausted the Doctor was, that he didn’t try to resist. Besides, he knew Jo and when she had that tone with him, there just was no chance to win the discussion.

And so, he just smiled gratefully.

“He needs to take his medicine every few hours.”

He nodded towards the half-filled bottle.

“Don’t worry, Doctor, I’ll take care of it.

The Doctor just nodded again, shuffling through the aisle into his own bedroom right next doors. With a little sigh, he let himself fall into the pillows, still with all his clothes own, falling asleep the second his head touched the pillow.

 

 

He wasn’t sure how much sleep he had gotten, all he knew that it was definitely not enough. Still, when he saw Jo’s face over his, he was awake immediately, stumbling out of bed and almost falling over his own feet.

“What is it?” he asked hectically. “Did something happen, is he alright?”

Jo’s face softened.

“He’s fine, I think. He woke up and asked for you.”

Without another word, the Doctor started running to the Master’s bedroom, where the Time Lord was standing, one hand clinging to the headboard in support.

“What are you doing, are you insane?” the Doctor growled, a bit of his old self returning into his tone, now that the panic lifted a little bit. “You’re barely able to stand. Get back to bed _now_.”

The Master looked up, a trace of his usual annoyance on his otherwise pale face – Far too pale for the Doctor’s taste.

“I might require your help to return to my TARDIS,” he admitted with what looked like a lot of effort. “Especially if I want to leave the UNIT headquarters unnoticed. I assume you still can’t work your TARDIS properly?”

“I can work my TARDIS perfectly fine,” the Doctor lied. “It’s just not functional at the moment. And even if it was, I would not let you leave. Back. To. Bed.”

He grabbed the Master’s arm and gently pushed him back to the mattress. He could feel him trying to protest, but he was far too weak to stop the Doctor from sitting him down.

So instead he seemed to settle for glaring.

“I assure you, I am perfectly fine. If you’d just give me the bottle with the medicine…”

“Absolutely not,” the Doctor interrupted him with sharp tone. “You spent the whole night unconscious. I’m not letting you alone in this state.”

“Oh, what do you care?” the Master snapped angrier than usual, and immediately seemed to regret it, his face contorting to a pained grimace.

The Doctor sat down next to him with an earnest expression.

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course I care. Now please, _Master_ , will you lie back down and get some rest? I promise you, no one is going to lock you up or keep you here, you’re free to leave as soon as you’re cured. Sneaking you out will be far easier once you’re back on your feet, too.”

He could see the Master’s eyes widen and sighed a little at the sight, unable to not feel a pang of guilt. Still, using his name seemed to have done the trick – The Master nodded shortly and laid back onto the bed, hands folded over his stomach, and eyes looking up at the ceiling – He looked undoubtedly annoyed now, but at least he had agreed to stay.

None of them noticed Jo quietly slipping out of the room, as they had once again forgotten she was there.

“You should take some of the medicine again,” the Doctor started, raising the bottle with an attempt of a comforting smile – which seemed to backfire.

The Master raised an eyebrow, still looking at the ceiling. The dark expression on his face let him look considerably like himself again.

“I’d prefer not to.”

“Sure,” the Doctor grumbled. “We’ll just hope you healthy then, with the power of fantasy, maybe?”

With that, the Master actually let his dark eyes flick towards the Doctor, grinning bitterly.

“Sounds like something you would do.”

The Doctor gave him a crooked smile. “Even my endless spring of hope has its limits, I’m afraid. Now will you take the medicine, or do you want me to force you?”

“I would so love to see you try, I’m sure it would be quite a sight,” the Master replied with a thin smile, but opened his mouth with a sigh when the Doctor poured some of the liquid in, nonetheless.

He shivered in disgust.

“Appalling.”

The Doctor inspected the little bottle with a frown.

“Well, as long as it helps.”

The Master sighed and laid back down. He looked surprisingly small in this bed double the size of him, white as the sheets and still lightly shivering.

“You should get some more rest,” the Doctor added with dry lips, even though he could feel the fear returning to his hearts, the memory of the Master being unconscious for the whole night still far too recent.

The Master, however, just rolled his eyes.

“If I sleep anymore, you can might as well bury me.”

“I’d prefer not to,” the Doctor gave back more sharply than intended.

The Master looked up to him with a raised eyebrow.

“You really are worried, aren’t you?”

“Well, have you seen yourself?” he snapped back, suddenly feeling the need to appear distant again. Oh, the games they played, the constant dancing around each other, never admitting that they meant more to the other than anyone could possibly know. He was tired, so incredibly tired of them, but at the same time, he couldn’t stop, couldn’t drop his mask and pride as long as the Master didn’t.

One idiot prouder than the other, that’s what it was, and they just never learned from their mistakes. Bridges burning, set on fire again and again, but always rebuilt. They were unable to tear away from the other, unable to not try and cross the river again and again.

The Master smiled.

“Lay with me?”

And here they went again, a new circle starting. The Doctor sighed, but lay down next to the Master, nonetheless, taking him into his arms so carefully, one could think he was made of porcelain. He wasn’t sure who was trying to comfort who, but he felt better either way. The Master hesitated only for a few heartbeats, then curled up inside the Doctor’s arms, his breathing evening soon, as he slowly went back to sleep.

The Doctor watched him silently for a few minutes. Minutes turned into hours and he was still lying still, just feeling the body next to his breathing, listening to the calming heartbeats and thinking that this wasn’t too bad.

Curiously, without even thinking, he lifted a hand, and let his fingers roam gently through the Master’s beard. He wasn’t quite able to admit that he had always wanted to do this, but… well. It wasn’t too bad, either.

He didn’t notice Jo’s return and she used the moment just leaning against the frame, watching them silently for a few seconds.

“You really love him, don’t you?” she finally asked, and the Doctor flinched.

He looked up to his young friend like a child who had just been caught with his hand in a cookie jar, then let a crooked smile appear on his face.

“I guess I do.”

“You guess?” Jo giggled. “It’s pretty obvious, and you’re only noticing it now?”

The Doctor looked at the silent figure next to him thoughtfully. “Well, he… we… it’s been a while since I even allowed to think about these feelings,” he finally explained with a sigh. “You know how he is, what he does. It’s not… exactly easy.”

“So, he wasn’t… always like this?” She asked him with some hesitation.

“No, he wasn’t,” he replied after a short while of thinking. “He was always brilliant, granted. And always a little bit condescending – We both were.” With right, he thought, but didn’t say it, thinking he didn’t exactly underline that he still was – Not knowing that Jo was already very well aware of that. “And he always wanted to bite more than he could chew.” He sighed. “But he wasn’t quite as reckless.”

Jo smiled. “You do. You love him.”

With a shrug, the Doctor rolled the Master back onto the mattress, careful, to not wake the sick man up, then got up.

“Yes. But it doesn’t matter. We took different paths and now we’re stuck in our ways.”

“Maybe he can change again,” Jo suggested, offering him a comforting smile the Doctor could only reciprocate gratefully.

“Maybe.”

It was something he had long forbidden himself to believe, but maybe today, with the feeling of the Master in his arms still firmly on his mind, he could allow it for some precious, little time.

 

 

The Master got back to his feet rather quickly, much to the Doctor’s relief.

He couldn’t deny there was a little hint of sadness inside of him when they said goodbye, though.

The time together had been the most peaceful since their school days and even while accompanying him outside of the UNIT headquarters, right underneath the Brigadier’s nose, while Mike Yates silently shook his head in silent despair, he wasn’t quite ready to let go of that again.

As eager as the Master had seemed to get out of his dependence to the Doctor and back on his own feet, now that they were standing in front of the closed TARDIS doors, he too seemed to hesitate.

“Well,” he said, and the Doctor shuffled his feet sheepishly.

“Well,” he said too, because he didn’t know what else to say.

The Master tried his best to look completely carefree, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, which wandered from one point to the other, carefully avoiding the Doctor’s.

“Thank you.”

“Of course,” the Doctor replied shortly, knowing it took a lot for his old friend to say these words.

They looked at each other for a few seconds, both apparently unable to say what they truly had on their mind.

After a while, the Master just pushed open the door, stepping in. Before he shut his door, he looked back at the Doctor.

“You know…,” he muttered, looking so pale that the Doctor almost considered pulling him back into his bedroom – For recovery reasons only, of course. “…I hope, that I do love you, too?”

The Doctor was completely taken aback by this, staring at the Master, trying to comprehend where this was coming from. When he finally realized what had happened, the Master had already vanished inside his TARDIS with a last, little grin and started dematerializing.

For a little while, the Doctor watched the spot where the Master had vanished from, then turned around with a little smile, that quickly spread into a full-grown grin.

Until he suddenly found himself standing in front of the Brigadier, that was, who looked anything but amused.

“Sorry,” the Doctor beamed, completely unable to look even remotely sorry. “Seems like he escaped again. You know how he is. Always a trick up his sleeve.”

The Brigadier looked after him as the Doctor walked back into the building, whistling happily, thinking this was a bet he’d rather not lost, while rummaging in his pocket, looking for the money he now owed Miss Grant.


End file.
